


No Paradise for the Lost

by volatileSoloist



Series: Confessions of Teen-Aged Murderers [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angst, Post-murders Eridan, all characters other than Eridan are just mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-11
Updated: 2014-12-11
Packaged: 2018-02-28 23:49:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2751716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/volatileSoloist/pseuds/volatileSoloist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your name is Eridan Ampora, and you havve just done somethin fuckin unconscionable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Paradise for the Lost

Your name is Eridan Ampora, and you have just killed three of your friends. You’re sitting, huddled in some dark corner of the asteroid, and closing your eyes as if you believe that if you can’t see their blood on your clothes, you can forget that you just--that you just…

“Oh gog… oh gog…” You feel sick to your stomach and you want more than anything to go back, to undo the atrocity you just committed. _wwhy did you think shed understand that you wwere only tryin to protect her? wwhy did you think shed leavve that pissblood for you? no one understands._

They didn’t deserve to die, Kan and Fef and Sol… why couldn’t you have just left without her? Why did you have to fight them? Why did you kill them?! _you dont regret killing Sol as much as you do the others, admit it._ No, you do regret it! He was your friend, too! He could’ve been your kismesis… someday… _not fuckin likely._

Still… Sol didn’t deserve it. None of them did. They were your friends, and… your genocidal tendencies aside, you never would’ve dreamed of actually harming your friends. Even when you threatened them with claims of culling all landdwellers, you never… you would’ve never gone through with it. _you told kan youd spare her. now shes dead. its fuckin unconscionable. howw can you livve wwith yourself?_

You choke down a bitter sob. You had everything you could want; maybe it wasn’t immediately attainable, but with time, surely you would’ve been more appreciated! But instead, you decided that all hope was lost, that you and your friends would die anyway. But you didn’t have to… and neither did Fef, if you could’ve avoided it. You were ecstatic, even if you didn’t outwardly seem it, at the idea that you knew a way to keep her from dying, that you could save her from destruction. She was your princess, and she’d have ruled alongside you if you both went to join Bec Noir. But she refused, and you… _you wwrote off all a your experiences an years a friendship as unimportant to you the moment you attacked them._ But that’s not true! It does matter. _or it did… not like itll do her much good noww._

You find yourself envying how easy Sol and Kan had it, being lowbloods. They had no expectations on them… they always seemed to live such free lives. You had to live up to being a prince, and no one appreciated you for it. They never realized how good they had it! _so youre lyin to yourself, noww?_

Even if you had been born a lowblood, though… what if someone else had had the idea to join Bec Noir, instead of you? Who’s to say you wouldn’t have gone with them and renounced all your friends, just as you did now? _youvve no one to blame but yourself. you wwere tolerated here, to say the least. wwhat about noww?_ That tolerance got you nowhere. You don’t want to be tolerated, you want to be respected, like the violetblood you are! Their tolerance or their dislike… regardless, they’re both poison to you.

But… but no… denying the problem won’t make it go away. You doomed yourself the instant you attack Sol ( _howw ironic_ ). You could’ve stopped after him. When Fef charged you--you should have let her spear you. You deserved it, and she didn’t deserve being blasted through with your white science. Kanaya… she was just standing there, she hadn’t even attacked and you felt as though the way had been illuminated for you when your eyes fell on the Matriorb. As the goddamn Prince of Hope, you were destined to destroy your aspect. You knew that by incinerating the Matriorb you’d do just that. You were only defending yourself when she lunged at you, _but she wwas the one you swwore youd spare._

You bite down on your bottom lip to prevent an agonized wail from escaping your lips. _theres nothin left here for you. no matter wwhat happens, you wwill be miserable._

It’s true. No matter where you go from here, you will never be happy. Not like you ever really were before. _it could be a lot wworse. you could crawwl back an grovvel for their forgivveness._ That won’t happen. They wouldn’t let you back, even if you were sobbing on your hands and knees. You’ve killed three of their--of _your_ friends. That’s unforgivable.

And even if they do forgive you, if they do let you come back, where would you be? No one would look at you with the respect they owe you. They’d treat you like dirt, they’d treat you worse than they did before, and that is saying something. _theyll act like youre the traitorous trash you are._

If only they knew how awful you feel now. If they only knew how much you regret killing most of the small handful of decent people on this rock. You genuinely cared about all of them, even Sollux. And now they’re dead because of you. You’d die three times over if you could bring them back.

But still, what if everything went back to the way it was? _howw long wwould it take for you to feel like this wwhole endeavvour is hopeless, an that you had to savve yourself from goin down wwith the ship in any wway possible?_ You did those horrible things out of selfishness. In those moments, you cared only about yourself, and anyone who stood against you was putting your life in danger. _youre a fuckin cowward._ You don’t argue with yourself on that. But it does make you feel angry. You feel you don’t deserve their scorn. You are a highblood and if you feel like you need to cull a few insurgents, then goddamn it, you have every right to!

Right now you feel such intense hate and, oddly enough, pride, like you’ve never felt before. You hate yourself. You hate your teammates. You hate Kan, and Sol, and Fef. The pride tells you that as long as your friends refuse to reconcile with you, they are not worth it. If you go back, you’ll only fall faster and harder than you did before.

 _they wwont forgivve you. wwhy wwould you beg these scumbloods for somethin they wwont givve anywway?_ Their lives will go on without you. You know that the humans are on their way. If you get accepted back, you will fade into the background as the pink fleshbags make themselves at home. But... if you were to make a lasting impression by smearing these idiots on the ground, then you won’t be forgotten. They won’t be looking at you like you’re beneath them anymore; they’ll be looking at you in fear. And you know what? Maybe it’s better to be feared than loved. Hasn’t that been proven again and again?

You wipe away tears you hadn’t realized were falling, and look up in time to see a streak of orange and a trail of sparkles. Pre-game, you wouldn’t have described Vriska as brightly colored and sparkly, but that’s what she is now, and, her fairy-like appearance aside, it occurs to you that she’s your biggest threat right now. She’s the only troll here even barely worthy to be your adversary. You equip your wand from your strife specibus and follow the fading trail that leads to the roof. No one can say you haven’t done your job; you’ve already destroyed Hope… 

Maybe it’s time to destroy a little more.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspiration for this fic came from Satan's soliloquy in _Paradise Lost_ by John Milton. Hope you enjoyed!


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